


Hunters

by Odsbodkins



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odsbodkins/pseuds/Odsbodkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Commandos take refuge from the snow in a cave. They're not the first hunters to have stayed here.</p>
<p>For Porn Battle XIV, with the prompts: bite, hand, cave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunters

**Author's Note:**

> The cave they find themselves in is completely made-up, but the paintings are based on ones from Chauvet Cave.

The cave was a godsend, found as the snowstorm was really closing in. The Commandos checked out the first forty feet or so and found it free of both Nazis and wildlife, though the cave seemed to keep on going much deeper than that. They settled in to wait out the storm, risking a fire as the snow was heavy enough to cover any smoke.

When Bucky suggested to Steve that they should check out further into the cave, just in case, the earnest fake-innocence was too much for the rest of the Commandos, who burst out laughing.

Dugan caught his breath from the laughter and said, "Yes, go explore the Sergeant’s cave, Captain."

Steve couldn't be serious enough to give a properly disapproving commanding-officer look, so just ignored them and lit a couple of makeshift torches from the fire. He handed one of them to Bucky as the Commandos started trying to outdo each other in cave exploration innuendo. Steve and Bucky walked away to the sound of increasingly tenuous innuendos.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, Steve mostly concerned with not cracking his head on the irregular ceiling of the cave. Both of them were making distance calculations - they wanted to be far enough away to not have to be too quiet, but close enough to respond to any emergency.

"Hey, Steve, look at this."

Steve stopped, looked at what Bucky was pointing at. It was a picture of a bear, in blacks and reds on the cave wall. Something about it drew him in, the animal seeming so alive, like it was almost breathing, especially in the flickering light of their torches.

"There's more, look." Bucky took Steve's hand to pull him along.

As they walked further into the cave there were more pictures. The first were all single animals, widely spaced but the paintings grew denser, here a herd of what Steve thought were bison. Then a pride of lions, and next, the lions hunting the bison. Next appeared the human figures, crudely drawn in comparison to the animals, in amongst them, watching or gathering or hunting. He'd read about cave paintings as the first pages in any art book always covered 'primitive art', but seeing it like this, it wasn't primitive at all. Steve remembered something about capturing the essence of a person in a drawing, and these looked like the essence of animals, the life drawn onto the walls. And Bucky, (who wasn't as immune to art as he liked to make out, but still never as interested as Steve), was entranced too, following the paintings and pulling Steve with him.

Then they came to a gap in the cave wall, faced on both sides by pictures of animals that seemed to be running into it, so of course they went through. They found themselves in a small chamber, scarcely larger than their bedroom in Brooklyn, rock floor so smooth it was almost slippery though it was quite dry. The walls here were covered in pictures, running in a wide band round the whole chamber.

Bucky was taking his jacket off, even though it really wasn't warm enough, even though they always screwed almost fully clothed when they were out in the field because you never knew what might happen. Steve found himself undoing the fastenings of his own top, couldn't explain why. They dropped their torches in corners of the room, met in the middle, kissed hard and urgent, stripped each other out of their clothes until they were both naked in the torchlight.

They kissed again, deep, needy, plastered against each other, cold down their backs against the heat from where they were pressed together. And they were dirty and unwashed and sweating even through the cold, but almost intoxicated with the need to touch and smell and taste each other. Then they broke apart, nothing that either of them could really explain, and turned to the pictures on the walls again. They followed the pictures, starting from the door. It was the story of a hunt, the crudely-drawn people gathering together, stalking the herd, drawing in, going for the kill, the slaughtered beasts. This final scene was surrounded by handprints, negative spaces where someone had put their hand against the wall and sprayed ochre over it.

Bucky put his right hand into one of the handprints, and Steve was behind him, close enough for Bucky to feel his erection against his back. Steve put his right hand over Bucky's, pressed down, held him there as he kissed from Bucky's ear down his neck. When his mouth met the thicker muscle at Bucky's shoulder Steve bit down. He'd never bitten Bucky before, but now he needed to, had to. Bucky moaned, and Steve bit again, biting along the muscle to the tip of his shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to bruise. This need, this desire to claim, to say- _Mine_ , had always been there, but in this place it had risen to a compulsion. He licked back along the bite marks, gentle, soothing. 

Gentle was not what Bucky wanted, and he turned round, grabbed fistfuls of Steve's hair and pulled him into a crushing kiss. Bucky was feeling the same need to possess and mark, so he let go of Steve's hair, moved to bite Steve just below and behind his ear. Carried on biting down the muscle, no chance of him breaking the skin, but he could still leave dull red imprints. Steve pressed into Bucky, but it wasn't enough so he pulled them both down onto the floor, onto their haphazard pile of clothes.

Just for a moment both of them didn't feel rough army clothes under them, but instead warm, thick fur. And the next moment the feeling was gone, but they were already kissing, hot skin to hot skin, Bucky almost writhing on top of Steve to feel the push and slide of erection against erection. Steve rolled them both over, kept kissing as he reached blindly with one hand to where he guessed Bucky's jacket was, found the pocket with the Vaseline in, slicked his fingers and started working Bucky open as Bucky made needy noises into the kiss. They parted and Steve slid one hand under Bucky to angle him right, then pulled his fingers out and slid his dick home.

Steve paused but Bucky pushed back, and they moved together, rolling on waves of pleasure as Steve hit against the sweet spot inside again and again. Steve wrapped his free hand around Bucky's dick, not doing much more than stroking his thumb around the tip, but that was enough for Bucky to try and push back even more, making quiet demanding noises. Neither of them was aware of anything beyond each other, riding the need and sensation.

Bucky gasped and came, hot over Steve's hand, and Steve was coming too, pushing deep with a groan as the wave crested.

Then- _Bucky could see the herd in front of him, unaware of his presence, spear in his hand, waiting for his moment, and he could see the Hydra guards in front of him, unaware of his presence, finger on the trigger, waiting for his moment. Steve could see the lions coming towards him, knew he had to hit first time with the slingshot, and he could see the Hydra troops coming towards him, knew he had to hit first time with the shield._

Steve and Bucky stared at each other in shock. They didn't need to ask each other if they'd just experienced the same thing, their expressions were enough for the other to know. But while it was strange, there was no feeling of threat or danger (and they both had developed a pretty good sense for that). Steve sat up, ignoring the suppressed whimper from Bucky as he slid out of him, pulled Bucky up to sit with him. They sat together, arms around each other, looking at the walls.

Bucky rubbed a thumb over the marks he'd made on Steve's shoulder, marks which were already fading. "You got any idea what just happened?"

"Power of suggestion?"

"Bull and you know it."

Steve smiled. "Yeah." He kissed Bucky softly. "I got nothing."

"Me neither. But I guess- I guess there must have always been guys like us."

And Steve didn't have to ask what Bucky was talking about, had felt the connection, the feeling of being part of a chain of being through time. The shadows on the cave walls were their own, but were also the shadows of those ancient hunters.


End file.
